


Squint

by Syndicate_V



Series: Of Winter and Spring [1]
Category: Guild Wars, Guild Wars 2
Genre: F/M, One Shot, these are allllll original characters lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 14:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1860849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syndicate_V/pseuds/Syndicate_V
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Particle effects are the leading cause of poor vision in burdened guardians. Aisling takes care of her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Squint

**Author's Note:**

> //I just really like Guild Wars 2//  
> Inspired after a conversation in a late-night WvW Mumble chat; I immediately bought my guardian glasses and went to town.

The words flit across the burly male's vision, blurring as they go, becoming indecipherable. One hand rubs absentmindedly at his temples, trying and failing at alleviating the headache beginning to form there.

With a heavy sigh, Sigvaldi puts down the pamphlet he was only truly half-trying to read anyways, devoting both hands to the pressure mounting in his head. Elbows finding a fitting resting spot on his knees, he leans his immense weight forward in his seat, palms rubbing circles determinedly on his forehead. He barely notices it when his wife--Aisling--enters the room, only truly does when she wraps her arms around his shoulders (no easy feat, but she is as strong as he; if not more so) and buries her chin in his thick tresses of blue-black hair. Her hands curl around the tattoos on his arms, fingers splay against them as she if oft to do. She hums as she does so, fiery hair tickling Sigvaldi's cheeks as she leans over to reach the tattoos lower on his forearms.

And she moves back.

His low noise of contention--that he had thought gone unnoticed--cuts off into a sharp bark of indignation; headache forgotten, he leans back to reach for his vexatious wife. Laughing, she is just out of his reach. Shakes her finger just so to mock him, as if to say "not this time". She's just gotten in their abode, fresh from the Mists, and still in the heavy shoulder pauldrons that she so enjoys wearing (though, thank the Spirits, their flames are extinguished; he'll never be able to fathom how she goes out with that, elementalist be damned). Her gauntlets are off, though, and--having satisfied her need to _touch_ \--she goes back to pulling off her armor as if nothing had transpired, as if she had not roved hungry hands all over her husband and pulled him to action.

Ten years of marriage--not counting the many more they've known each other--and one would think he'd be used to it.

"Headache?" She asks, voice low as she unclasps a pauldron from her right shoulder. Sigvaldi moves to assist with the left, revealing the smooth, sienna skin of her shoulder to his eyes. He darts a daring kiss to it and meets the amused amber of her gaze with his own coy cobalt.

Enough of that.

"Mmh." Is his reluctant reply, noncommittal as he places her pauldrons on the armor rack next to his own. While he wears heavier gear, there is still a need for hers to be in just as excellent shape. There are dangers out there; preparedness is key.

"Are you wearing them?" The note at the end, the one only he swears he can hear, is that edge Aisling gets when she prepares herself for battle, be it verbal or physical. Pleasant when prepping for bed, not so much when that is not the case.

Sigvaldi hands Aisling her nightclothes, one of his shirts that she's claimed for herself. He cannot say that he's displeased by this; no, not in the slightest.

"Sigvaldi Vexwind."

Ah, there we are. His first name, her last name. Their agreement upon marriage. And why not? Her background was stronger, family more reputable. And, Spirits be damned, he liked it better!

"You know I'm not."

She cocks a brow, the scar in it adding to the fierceness of the look. Detracting nothing from the fierceness of her beauty. Would that he could skip the stupid argument that's sure to come and just go on ahead to the pleasantries. She narrows her eyes, going back to the practiced movements of removing her armor, taking the shirt that's offered. Puts it on quickly; no peeking for Sigvaldi. Shame.

"And why is that?" Crossing her arms under her chest is an obvious trap that he will admit to falling for far too many times. It takes a few seconds for him to realize that, yes, he's fallen for the bait again. By the brief illumination in her eyes, yes, she knows it.

He rubs his head once more, the throbbing returning in a subdued manner. It will not take long before it crescendos into more than a minor annoyance. Sigvaldi mutters something, something he's not even certain has passed his lips but Aisling knows. Oh, damn her, but she knows.

Her brows raise, her lips widen into a smile, and she holds that finger out once more, ordering him to wait _just one second_.

And he does, because one simply does not make a person that can command the elemental forces angry. Well, not **too**  angry, you understand.

It does not take long. She comes back, demands that he close his eyes. Again, immediate acquiescence. See above reason. Places the damn things on his eyes. Kisses his nose before she pulls back.

"Embarrassed, Sigvaldi?" He opens his eyes to see her half-lidded stare, smile more of a smirk. "Oh, no, there's absolutely no reason for that."


End file.
